About me

Nora K

Having been bitten by the travel bug many moons ago, I’ve since devoted the majority of my leisure time dreaming of my next vacation....be it a stay cay spent discovering my home town, visiting my sister and her family in la belle province or jetting off to any (well, ok....if you must know, it would preferrably be Paris) European location. Even dreaming of setting a pink sneaker footprint on new territory gets my heart racing and my adrenaline pumping. I’m always ready to travel. So what if I have a slight claustrophobic issue with elevators, subways and airplanes? A glass of vino or two will quite easily solve that issue. Did I tell you that I enjoy the occasional vino tinto? More on that later....

I’ve had interesting globe traipsing experiences, travelling with my niece, my friends and my folk dance group and have some entertaining stories to share with you. So, if you can’t get away just yet, no worries, just read, enjoy and come travel with me....

Yes, you read
that correctly, clearly and accurately, about walking along the Amalfi Coast
highway. This is what transpires when two middle aged women concoct a ludicrous
plan to take exercise to the next level and promenade from Piano di Sorrento to
Positano – normally a half-hour bus ride. My friend and I are walkers. We walk
everywhere. Why take the bus when you can walk there?No hill is too steep, no place is too far,
nothing will stop us from walking to anywhere and everywhere, not even rain,
snow or sleet. Walking to Positano would be a breeze, a piece of cake, no
problem whatsoever. So what if the sign said 9 km to Positano? We could do it.
It will be a nice and relaxing day hike, and once we arrive at our destination
we would reward ourselves with pasta, pizza and tiramisu, whilst languishing in
a quaint outdoor trattoria, brimming with pride over our medal worthy athletic accomplishments.

Water bottles
in hand, skin sun screened so it glistened, Ana and I embarked upon our trek.
Marching along the sidewalk, we did not yet seem an unusual sight on the road,
sharing the pavement with cyclers, motorcycles and cute Italian gents honking
their horns at us. Ahh...Italia....men on their Vespas, nonas coddling their
grandkids, pasta boiling on the stove, this was our vision of the “dolce vita”. The trail still had a
sidewalk so that was an excellent sign, meaning that if there was a sidewalk
then there were pedestrians.Trees
dripping with olives, lemons as huge as grapefruits, vegetation and brushery of
all kinds awaited and greeted us.Yes,
we had made the right decision when we nixed taking the bus. Snapping digital
imprints left and right, we were in our National Geographic photo gallery glory!Spying a picture worthy authentic rustic fruit
stand on the side of the road hawking lemons, tomatoes and vegetables of all
types, we filled our knapsacks with the bright coloured veggies, unintentionally
weighing ourselves down with the equivalent of five pound weights.Yikes!!Not the best idea in the world – especially while embarking on a 9km
hike!

Perhaps we
were too enamoured of the blue skies, the sound of the breeze rustling the
leaves, savouring the feel of the sun embedding it’s golden rays onto our
parched Canadian skin, that we barely noticed that the road had suddenly turned
into a highway and that the pedestrian-friendly sidewalk had been replaced by
concrete railings, cautioning travellers to beware of the precarious 1,000 foot
cliff-drop below.

Whiz...whiz....whiz....cars, vespas, trucks and gigantic
tour buses flew by at a frightening pace.Can that huge bus, crammed to the gills with carefree camera toting
tourists, really navigate that upcoming treacherous hair-pin curve? Yikes...thosetour buses are absolutely gigantic upclose!!....the startled disbelieving
stares of the tour bus drivers upon viewing two women clinging to the concrete
railings trying to shield themselves from the oncoming traffic. What have we gotten ourselves into? Perhaps we
should have listened to the wise old man who had stopped to offer us a ride at
the very start of our journey. Speaking very little English, he shook his head
and mumbled that we were very “atletica” when
we had adamantly declined his offer to give us a lift to Positano, saying that
we preferred to walk instead. I can just imagine what sort of impression we
left upon him...questioning our sanity as to why we were walking, when the bus
or a car ride was readily available.

We were in
serious trouble.We had to get off the
highway pronto! It was getting progressively
quite perilous and dangerous to be out there, as we had now inadvertently
become targets for fast-moving vehicles and over-sized tour buses.We cringed in terror as every car, bus, truck
and vespa tore on by, mercilessly spitting gravel on us. What had innocently
commenced as an “up close and personal”
view of the spectacular panorama of the jagged vertical treacherous cliffs and
of the aquamarine blue water of the sea below, had quickly turned into a
nightmare of our own making.

Sensing that
it was futile to try and continue our gallivant to Positano, we entertained the
thought of hitching a ride with anyone who would stop and offer us one. Wise
old man, where are you now? You were
right to shake your head in disbelief upon hearing our ridiculously absurd plan
to soldier onward towards town, a feat so incomprehensible that it was one that
only dim-witted tourists would venture to undertake.

Screech!!All of a sudden, a sleek and shiny convertible
rolled to a stop and a concerned Italian gentleman commanded us to get in the
car and off the highway. We didn’t have to think twice as we clamoured into the
vehicle, grateful to make the acquaintance of Tony, who was on his way to
Positano to meet up with family friends.Exceptional circumstances make for difficult and life-altering decisions
and there was no way under normal circumstances that Ana and I would ever place
a pink-sneakered step into a stranger’s automobile, but, faced with either
being side-swiped by a tour bus or hitching a ride with a questionable
character, we chose the latter and hoped for the best.Fortunately for us, our knight in shining
armour was a true old-fashioned Italian gentleman, concerned with rescuing two
adventure seeking English speaking damsels in distress who were foolhardily out
for a stroll along the panoramic seaside highway.

True to his
word, SignoreTony deposited us safely in Positano and graciously offered to
drive us back to Piano di Sorrento at the end of the day.We thanked him profusely for his generosity,
but declined his invitation, concluding that we could not pass up the
opportunity to hitch a ride with the mega tour bus.After all, we were anxious to witness
first-hand the skill and fortitude of the bus driver as he navigated the twists
and turns of the narrow winding laneways, all the while keeping an eagle eye
out for adventure loving tourists clue-lessly meandering along the highway.

After
indulging in a resplendent seafood dinner, having consumed several carafes of
well-deserved vino, we gleefully boarded the bus, reclined blissfully in our
seats, and prayed that we would awaken at the designated bus stop!

Come
stroll along the Amalfi Coast with me....come dodge oncoming tour buses, vespas
and automobiles....come traipse along the coastal seaside and discover Italia…

Next week
– what adventures await? Stay tuned!!

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